


Sleep Better Here

by Bam4Me



Series: This Is More Comfortable [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (and used, But Gonna diverge from the storyline after that, Dom/sub Undertones, Gonna Have Sequels, IT'S GAY, Jon has trouble sleeping, Jon likes feeling safe, King Jon, M/M, Nightmares, Northerners don't feel the same way about homosexuality as southerners do, PTSD, Post Season 6, They do bang at one point, Warg!Jon, bed sharing, but mostly reluctantly, but that's slightly different), he feels more comfortable in the wildling camp than he does his own home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:06:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: Jon couldn't sleep. It's not that he wasn't trying, it's that every time he closed his eyes, he saw something he'd rather not.
Tormund's seen that before, and he's even dealt with it himself a time or two, he thinks he knows a good solution.





	

**Author's Note:**

> littlesforfandom.tumblr.com
> 
> At one point in the fic, Jon does warg into one of Dany's dragons, and it makes him feel HELLA sick from the motion of it flying. This is MAINLY because it freaked him out, and so he started fighting it and ended up getting sick.
> 
> In case you do not know, it's canon (I'm not sure about the books, cause I haven't read very much of them yet, but R R Martin confirmed it) that all the Stark children are wargs, and so this is playing under the guise that if Jon HAS warged into an animal before, it was never as Jarring to him as the dragon was, and it scared him.
> 
> Also, he dreams of getting killed and buried under bodies.
> 
> There WILL be sequels to this, but I wanted to chop it up so I could focus on specific things. This part of the story is how Jon and Tormund got together,

It wasn’t that Jon wasn’t trying, he really was, but he just couldn’t sleep.

 

It had started before the battle for Winterfell. It had started before Ramsay had made him nervous and pissed in equal parts. It had happened before his beloved sister had come back to him.

 

And it had started  _ after _ being stabbed.

 

And now winter is here.

 

Winter, as he remembers it, is cold, a bone deep cold that settles in your veins, and freezes your entire body in place. He’d ridden out his first winter in Winterfell, and he wishes -prays even, to all the seven and whoever else was listening- that he could wait out this one in Winterfell again.

 

There was something so much bigger coming to them… and the closer it got, the less he slept.

 

***

 

“Jon, you can’t keep doing this.”

 

Jon looked up with wide -manic- eyes, to see his Tormund standing in the archway leading into the dining hall. He didn’t even know why he’d chosen here to sit while he waited out the sleepless night ahead, because the dining hall was cold, and it reminded him of being above the wall more than it didn’t, but the cold helped keep him awake.

 

He knew you didn’t need to sleep every night. The Red Woman had sat awake at night, staring into the fire and never sleeping at all, and she was alive and well.

 

Of course, she was also filled to the brim with magic that Jon was not.

 

He blinked tiredly up at his big companion, and glanced back at the flames burning in the hearth. “How did you know I was here?”

 

Tormund came into the room, standing behind Jon’s chair, looking even bigger from this angle. “You’ve been walking around for days as if you’ve had no sleep. A kitchen maid said you were in here last night.”

 

Jon let out a little humming noise. It’s not that he doesn’t sleep at all, he usually gets about half a night, but the nightmares keep him from going back down for the rest of the night.

 

“It’s not that bad.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Of course. I can still function.”

 

“Not anymore. Your  _ lords _ are starting to talk. Say you’re too jumpy and they can’t find out why. Half of them think you might be going mad.”

 

Jon winced at that, looking into the flames without word for a minute. “I… I cannot sleep. My mind is full of… images… memories of death. It’s not something I would like to dwell on.”

 

Tormund grunted once. “Well, I can help a little, but you need to get up, you’re going back to your bedchambers.”

 

Jon wanted to protest, to ask how Tormund would help, to say he could stay down here by himself for the rest of the night as he’d done before, be he was  _ so _ tired, he could only let the giant man put a hand on his arm, and be led blindly back to his chambers. When Tormund came into the room after him, Jon ignored him, taking his heavier clothing off again before climbing back into the bed.

 

Even if he couldn’t get back to sleep, he was so exhausted, the idea of laying here for the rest of the night was better than sitting in the dining hall.

 

He didn’t make any questioning noises until Tormund stripped out of his own outer clothes -something that the free folk were very unused to doing, but Tormund seemed to be catching up- and got into the other side of the bed with him. “Wat’re you doing?”

 

Tormund snorted once. “I’m sleeping, as you should. Close your eyes.”

 

Jon thought about fighting it, he really did, but as soon as the thought has passed, it slipped away as fast, leaving him curling up next to the giant and drifting out of thought entirely.

 

***

 

Jon could feel himself gliding, and looking down, he saw nothing but water, ocean as pure as anything Jon has never actually seen in real life.

 

This wasn’t the cold ice filled water that they had traveled over to go get the rest of the free folk from Hardhome, this wasn’t anything like he’d even been over before.

 

And yet, he could feel himself flying… no, not gliding, he could feel wings, though he could not see them, but he could feel the flapping at his sides, making for a rocky, motion filled flight.

 

Jon woke up and immediately ran to his chamber pot so he could vomit, feeling horrible, and sick, and like he’s been out of his own body for too long.

 

He really wishes these dreams would stop.

 

When he sat back on his haunches, he tries to get the sicking full body feeling of motion to go away. He feels like he’s been roughly shaken up and down till he was tossed aside.

 

He feels a hand on his shoulder and shudders once, before giving in and letting Tormund lead him back to the bed, like he’d led him there only hours before. “Is this why you’ve not been sleeping? Hard to sleep when you’re puking your guts up.”

 

Jon crawled back into the center of the bed, Tormund getting up on it beside him after pouring Jon a goblet of water. Jon drank most of it down and let Tormund take the cup back from him, leaning against the giant’s side. “It’s not always like that. Sometimes I dream of what happened after I died… sometimes it’s being trampled under a mountain of dead bodies. Then there’s that.”

 

Tormund sat back against the bed, pulling Jon against him so he was more comfortably settled, not wanting Jon to get sick again. He let his big hand trail up and down Jon’s back while the other man curled into him. “That?”

 

Jon was quiet for another minute, wincing, he pressed his hot face into Tormund’s bicep, fighting past another wave of nausea as he voiced the thoughts he’s been trying to avoid for a while now.  _ Talking about things makes them feel so much more real _ .

 

“I think I might be a warg.”

 

That took Tormund by surprise. The paused, his hand stilling on Jon’s shoulder. “A warg? Have you been having dreams of being in an animal’s body?”

 

Jon nodded once, not meeting the big man’s eyes. “A… a dragon, I believe.”

 

Tormund didn’t seem surprised at all. “Of course, I should have known the little white wolf would have bigger claws than any of us.”

 

John gave him a funny look. “Are you making fun of me?”

 

Tormund had a wolfish grin on his face. “Why shouldn’t I? Not like anyone else will do it. Everyone calls you their  _ king _ . As if that makes you some sort of god.”

 

Jon’s face turned into a little grin, before he pushing himself back into the hot skin of Tormund’s bicep. “You said yourself, ‘what kind of god would have a pecker that small?’”

 

Tormund let out a deep laugh, and Jon almost felt good enough to drop back off to sleep again, unlike usual when he felt like staying up for the rest of the night again. “Well, yes, it just shows, you’re not a  _ god _ .”

 

Jon tried to stifle his yawn in Tormund’s shoulder. “Is there someone in the free folk camp that I can talk to about it?”

 

Tormund hummed a little, “I know of a few.”

 

The giant turned then, pushing the tired man back down into the soft blankets. “After you sleep more.”

 

Jon wanted to get angry. To tell him he was neither a babe nor a woman -for surely, only children and women slept with others like this- but he couldn’t. A free folk man would never associate sleeping with someone the way that southerners do. To sleep with someone was to share warmth. To keep them safe.

 

Even if it was from their own mind.

 

Jon couldn’t argue with him, not when there was nothing to argue. Only sleep.

 

His dreams for the rest of the night, were unobtrusive, and he could barely remember them by the time he’d woken up once more.

 

***

 

“You look well rested.”

 

Jon came into the dining hall once more, this time greeted by his sister, and took a seat next to her at the table. “I was forced into rest. It seems a man may not live without.”

 

Sansa tilted her head at him for a moment. “Was it Tormund? He came through here a while ago, had a small meal with me, and asked that I send you to the free camp later on when you’re awake again.”

 

Jon couldn’t help the way his face tinted red. He hadn’t been so embarrassed about it the night before, when Tormund had been a solid form next to him in the bed, sharing both blankets and body heat. But that was because he’s lived with the man for the past four years now, and learned that north of the wall, they have very different ways of life.

 

Men and women marry, just as much as men share beds with men, and women with women. And that denotes both a love, and the friendship that him and Tormund share.

 

He’s not sure if his sister -who’s spent about the same time in the south- would feel the same way. His sister had always been very proper, and even now, after so much time, quite a bit of that was still there.

 

“Yes. He was worried that I would make myself ill without sleep.”

 

Sansa didn’t show him any of the crinkled up nose, eyes scrunched, and clear distaste that she had once shown him as a child, giving him an almost gentle, and absolutely  _ beautiful _ smile. God, she’s grown up so much. “That’s good. If he hadn’t forced you to sleep, I would have slipped something in your drink tonight.”

 

Jon raised an eyebrow at her. “Really? Well, at least you care. Did Tormund tell you what he wants me for?”

 

Sansa thought about that for a moment. “He said something about a warg he wanted you to speak with. What is a warg?”

 

Jon was quiet for a minute, suddenly remembering, that for all that his sister has grown up in the north, and for all she’s changed, she still does not believe in ‘fairy tales’. She had believed him about the white walkers, and coming back to life, but she doesn’t know much else.

 

“A human who can see through an animal’s eyes. Some can control them, and some can only see.”

 

Sansa was quiet for another moment. “He believes you are one?”

 

Jon looked away from her for a minute. “Remember when we first got our wolves… back before Bran… Bran and Rickon would say they dreamt of seeing out of their eyes… I believe all of us were. You and Arya probably are as well.”

 

Sansa looked down at her plate, like her heart had stopped at the mention of their sister. “Maybe one day, we can ask her ourselves.”

 

Jon felt like his chest was too tight and painful. He hoped she was right.

 

***

 

The outside was cold. Winter is here, and it’s only going to get colder.

 

Jon really hopes that he can convince the free folk to take up the land in and around Winterfell. As much as they’re used to the cold, people need to learn to lean on each other to stay alive and well through the winter.

 

Still, outside was nowhere near as cold as it was above the wall -where he’s spent the better part of five years now- and walking through the free folk encampment felt more  _ normal _ than walking through the  _ strange _ halls of his childhood home.

 

On his way to Tormund’s tent -the tent he could find more easily than his own bedchambers, because he’s been in the tent so much more than his room- he found Tormund sitting around a fire with several others, eating roasted animal on a stick. Jon wasn’t sure he wanted to know what animal though.

 

He moved to sit next to him around the fire, and gave him a small smile in greeting, otherwise quiet. Tormund wasn’t so quiet in his reply though. “Our king arises from his sleep, I thought you would sleep the day away, crow.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes, looking way too fond of him for his scolding to work. “Do not call me that, I would not have a  _ friend _ call me by a cold  _ title _ .”

 

Tormund grinned though, looking amused. “And what sort of friend would I be not to listen to my lord’s wishes.”

 

Jon kicked him lightly in the leg, not answering to his friends teasing. Tormund just gave him a mirroring fond look on his own face, smiling down at him. “I have rounded up other wargs for you to speak with. I myself can’t offer any of the words they can, but you can talk with them yourself.”

 

Jon pulled his cloak a little tighter around his body, smiling. “Thank you, Tormund Giantsbane.”

 

“It is a pleasure, Jon Snow.”

 

***

 

“Are you to guard my sleep every night from now on?”

 

Jon came into his bedchambers that night -his bedchambers that were so so warm, because of the hot springs below, and made him think of better days when winter was not yet here, even as his mind terrified him with visions of the Wall crumbling when the walkers finally make their way through- and found Tormund sitting on the edge of his bed, untying his clothes so he could pull them off. “I will stay as long as it needs guarding, and longer if you wish it.”

 

Jon paused, before taking off his outer clothes to follow suit. He climbed into the bed behind the giant, curling up under the covers in the center of the bed.

 

He should probably sleep closer to the other side, so Tormund would have more room of his own, but when Tormund turned to see him, he had a smile on his face while he got under the covers next to him. “You sleep like a child, curled around nothing, very small.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes. “I’d have figured all northerners would have learned to sleep like this. The closer you close in on yourself, the more heat you keep.”

 

Tormund gave him one of those slow smirks that made Jon feel tingles run down the base of his spine, and pulled the blankets tighter so he could pretend it was the cold - though, he doubted Tormund believed him. Compared to the north, it was downright  _ hot _ in the castle, with the hot springs working to heat them all. The castle was the warmest place in the north, by far.

 

Jon had at least, spread the word around that anyone who needed to leave the cold, should come to the castle, as it was one of the warmest places near.

 

“You keep even more heat when you sleep with a warm body at your side.”

 

He reached out one of his big arms, and wrapped it around Jon’s side, pulling them together, but Jon stayed stubbornly curled in place, making the big guy laugh, deep in his chest and loud in the quiet of the room. “You are a stubborn one, Jon Snow.”

 

Jon sighed, tiredly pushing his head against Tormund’s other bicep, using it as a pillow. “I could be worse.” He yawned once. “I hear that my sister has requested that Winter Town be rebuilt, and your people have agreed to help.”

 

Tormund nodded, “Aye, that we have. She says it will be a good place for us to settle, and if we’re under attack from other castles, we can be moved into the city fast.” He snorted though, and Jon understood. Like the free folk would run from a fight.

 

“You’ll be happy for the protection when children and elderly have a safe place to go from a fight so they aren’t hurt.”

 

Tormund did not answer, though Jon could feel one big hand gently sliding into his loose hair while his own eyes started to close. He didn’t fall asleep yet, but he did feel Tormund’s hand there for quite a while longer, simply playing with his hair as he laid.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder, if friends did such things together.

 

He only had one nightmare that night, and when he’d woken up from it, he found himself encased in a pair of large arms while Tormund spoke quiet words to him. It was much easier to get to sleep again after that.

 

***

 

Jon was starting to realize that this might not exactly be things that only friends do.

 

He gasped when his back was pushed up against the wall of his bedchambers, and a mouth pushed up against his. And then it turned into a sweet little  _ whimper _ when he felt a leg pushing in between his own. Tormund pulled back so he could bite at his neck, leaving little pink marks in his wake instead. “Even the noises you make are pretty, Jon Snow.”

 

Jon didn’t reply, not with words. “Ahh.” He reached up one hand, fisting into Tormund’s thick hair while the other one came up to hold onto his side, giving him enough leverage to push up into the thigh between his legs. He let out another whimper, cock leaking in his clothes. “We should- ahh, we should go to the bed.”

 

“And why’s that, my  _ king _ ?”

 

Jon let out a growl, deep in his throat, pushing up so he could mesh their lips together again, in a bruising, possessive kiss. “Because then you can fuck me.”

 

“Aye, that is a good reason.”

 

Tormund let go of him, long enough for the two of them to strip down and Jon crawled onto the bed, opening up a drawer at the head of it to grab a vial of oil from it, and found himself flattened to the blankets, one big hand pushing down at the base of his back, before the other one grabbed a hold of his left leg, and pulled back till Jon was splayed, one thigh on either side of Tormund’s. He let out a low moan at where that position put him, spread wide open for the big bad wildling to take exactly what he wanted from him.

 

And Jon wanted to give it to him; whatever it is he wanted, Jon wanted him to have it.

 

Tormund leaned over his arched back, and gently took the vial of oil from Jon’s fingers. “I’ll take that, you just lie there and keep looking pretty.”

 

Jon let out a shaky gust of air at that, hands clenching in the blankets under him, a wet moan following when Tormund manipulated him further, splaying his legs a little wider so Jon’s hole was exposed to the room.

 

Jon tried to push up onto his elbows when he felt a slick finger pushing at his entrance, but Tormund used his body to cover him again, his free hand grabbing at his loose curls and pulling his head back. “No no, you stay there, just where I put you like the good boy I know you are.”

 

Jon let out another sweet moan, one big finger sinking into him deep.

 

“That’s right, now you need someone else to take charge for a while. Make you listen like you make your people listen.”

 

Another finger, and Jon could already feel himself tightening up, he tried to squirm into a better position again so he wouldn’t come so soon, but Tormund pulled both fingers out, and gave a sharp slap to Jon’s ass, making the king shudder at the feel of it, closer than before, before the fingers were pushed back in, stretching him roughly enough to hold him back from the edge, but only barely.

 

When Tormund pushed in a third, Jon had to bite into the blankets to keep from screaming, though it wasn’t a painful feeling, it was overwhelming and too intensely pleasurable, too fast and too much inside him.

 

Tormund grabbed a hold of his hair again, and pulled his head back, the sharp tug making him gasp out. “I want to hear those pretty noises, let me hear them.”

 

And Jon did, letting out a sob of pleasure as his body contracted around the intrusion inside, cock pulsing while it spit out thick white into the blankets, and he scrabbled at the blankets to hold on tight, rocking back against Tormund’s hand while he came down from the high of it. “Fuck.”

 

“Very pretty noises.”

 

Jon went limp under his fingers, body pliant with the feeling of it all. He heard Tormund grunt once behind him, and felt the splatter of his own spendings on his backside, glad that the giant seemed to have enjoyed himself as well.

 

When the two of them were cleaned and curled up under the covers once more, Jon let the bigger mn pull him to his chest, still feeling pliant and less likely to fuss at him for it.

 

Besides, he finds, he really does sleep better with Tormund at his side. He hasn’t slept this well in years.

**Author's Note:**

> littlesforfandom.tumblr.com


End file.
